


In the dark

by Mayjune



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Original Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6223141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayjune/pseuds/Mayjune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set early-ish Season 11.  Sam and Dean stumble across a primordial creature almost as old as the Darkness. Crowley joins the party, but does he have his own agenda? (of course he does!).  Sam (literally) gets in way over his head - can Dean save him, or will he have to rely on help from an unexpected source?<br/>NOW COMPLETE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eshemial had slept for a long, long time. Her dreams were a hellscape of searing heat, immense crushing pressures and ancient lava pools. Here she dipped her toes into the liquid molten rock, and laughed great plumes of sulphur as she danced under the pale sun.

But those were just memories. The true reality around her sleeping form was of icy rock, and damp, mouldering stone. Nestled deep underground, in the cold and the dark, she never shivered whilst she slept - her long memories of the ancient time before were enough to keep her warm.

Eshemial was one of the first creatures ever to walk the planet. Before Leviathan, before Eve, and long before Demons, her environment was the bubbling, super-heated mud plains of primordial Earth. She flourished for billions of years, until, over time, the planet began to cool and change around her and she had no choice but to crawl away to sleep, until the day would come when the sun would swell and bloat and finally absorb the entire planet, Eshemial included.

And in her cave, she would have stayed, _should_ have stayed, slumbering as the human race began its evolutionary journey, dragging itself out of her mud pits, growing, walking and smothering the continents before their eventual and inevitable extinction, without her ever knowing they had even existed.

But she knew of angels. Before she lay down for her long sleep she had seen them birthed and laughed at their brightness, their etherealness. So when a sudden scream cracked through the earth, powerful, angelic, pervading her sleep, rousing her mind, she recognised its essence –it was the one known as Lucifer.

She sleepily reached out around her, testing the Earth and its atmosphere. So much had changed since she surrendered to rest! Curious about her new planet, and what upon it could cause an angel to scream so, she pushed out with her senses, and… _there_ , she felt the touch of an entity even older than Eshemial herself.

She felt the Darkness.


	2. Chapter 1 - Welcome to Ector County

7.30am in the suburbs and Dean Winchester was getting frustrated. Traffic was a real bitch this morning; he was surrounded by moms on the school run ferrying their precious little nuggets around in giant SUV’s. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently. They had been held up at this particular junction for nearly five minutes, whilst the Nervous Norah way down at the front attempted to nudge out past oncoming traffic one painfully slow inch at a time.

He looked over at his sleeping brother. They had spent the better part of two days taking down a particularly nasty Rugaru, and Dean was feeling the beginnings of a throbbing headache.

“Hey…hey Sammy!” Dean leaned over and smacked his hand against his brother’s chest.

“Huh…what?” Sam woke up in a start, squinting his eyes against the bright morning.

“You’re doing it again Sam, drooling on the upholstery.”

“That’s what you woke me up for?” Sam scowled at his brother. “What’s wrong with you?” He yawned, stretched his legs as best he could. “Seriously Dean, I’ve probably spent something like a third of my life sleeping in this car, it’s probably only my drool that’s keeping all the spare parts working.” He wiped a hand over his dry mouth. “…and I’m not even drooling!” he exclaimed.

Dean stroked the dash in front of him, grinning. “Don’t listen to him baby, he’s just jealous of us.”

Sam shook his head in disgust and yawned again. Looking out the window he saw they were stationery in traffic.

“We still in Ector County?” He asked. “I thought we’d be miles from here by now…”

“Yeah, came over local radio there was a spill or something on the main interstate, so I cut through this stupid town and got caught in the damn school run.” Dean turned to Sam. “You know - that’s the problem with kids today, too damn lazy to walk to school, or even ride a bike. Not like in in our day.”

Sam raised an eyebrow “… _in our day_? What are you, 104? When’d you get to be such a grumpy old man?”

“I’m just saying, things aint what they used to be.” Dean carried on muttering under his breath, something about fussy parents and their over-protected, under-exercised kids.

When Dean got tired, Dean got cranky, so Sam tuned him out, and looked down at his phone. He had slept for around an hour, but it only felt like five minutes to his gritty, sore eyes. There was still a long way to go before they could take a quick break at a motel, grab a shower and crash for a few more hours before their final drive back to the bunker. Their encounter with the Rugaru had been brutal, and dried sweat was itching all over Sam’s skin.

“You know, even at this time of the morning, it still shouldn’t take this long to get through one small town” Sam said, trying, and failing, not to show his impatience.

“Whiny much, Sam?” Dean replied. He wanted to put as many miles behind him and the monster corpse as he could, and frustration was getting the better of him. Plus he wanted a shower and rest just as much as Sam did. “Instead of bitching, how about you get off your ass and go see what’s going on up ahead?”

Sam obliged him with his best bitch-face. “Glad to.” He made sure to slam the car door behind him just that little bit harder than required, to piss Dean off. The situation with the Darkness had left both the brothers more on edge than usual. Neither of them were dealing well with just hanging around waiting for the next poor sap to get their soul ripped out of them like a rotten tooth at the dentist.

Sam hadn’t been gone thirty seconds, when a cop car flashing its blues flew past the stationery Impala.   This was followed by another in quick succession.

Dean rubbed his eyes. “Dammit.” That could only mean more delay. He switched off the engine to save gas – the car obviously wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Nothing had come down the other side of the road in over 10 minutes, so something must be blocking the way up ahead in all directions. Dean strained to see what was happening, but he was just too far back to see what was causing the delay, plus a school bus further down in the traffic was blocking his angle of vision.

Another slow five minutes rolled by and the Impala still hadn’t moved. And Sam hadn’t returned either.

“Ok, that’s it - I’m done.” Dean said out loud to the empty car, his patience completely and utterly gone. He turned the keys, sharply revved the engine to life and pulled the steering wheel to the left, making a u-turn. He parked up on the other side of the road and got out of the car.

Even this early in the morning, the air felt warm and he was glad to peel off his blood-stained over shirt, leaving a clean t-shirt underneath.   Ector County had spent the last week sweltering under a record heatwave, and the boys had planned to be a few hundred miles north of here by lunchtime; well away from both the local weather, and the trail of death and destruction that they’d left behind in the previous town.

He spotted Sammy’s tall frame not even a minute’s walk away, in amongst a large crowd that had begun to gather at a corner of the road junction. Dean went to ask his brother what the hell was taking so long, when he saw for himself.

“Well…that’s new.”


	3. Chapter 3

At the centre of the road junction, Dean saw a red Subaru had been involved in a head-on collision with a Ford pickup. Nothing unusual in that, the amount of driving that he put in meant he saw RTAs on a very regular basis, and Dean had pretty low expectations when it came to the driving skills of the average man and woman compared to his. No, what was unusual about this accident was the red Subaru was floating upside down in the air, at least three feet above the ground. It gently swirled around in a lazy circle, and the middle-aged woman inside the car hung out of the window sobbing for help.

Dean immediately went to move toward the woman, but Sam put out an arm against his chest. “No, don’t”.

Dean shot Sam a disgusted look and swatted his brother’s arm away.

“No, seriously Dean. I got here just in time to see one of the cops just try to help her and they were…um… _vaporized_.”

That stopped Dean in his tracks. “No way…like _vaporized_ , vaporized?”

Sam nodded “Totally...it was like she was struck by lightning or something, except I think it came from the ground instead of the sky.”

Dean took in the floating car then looked up to the Heavens in defeat. “Sam, we must be as wicked as they come, cause there’s definitely no rest for us…”

All thoughts of sleep and a shower were put to bed as he quickly jogged back to the Impala and rummaged around inside the glove box for an EMF reader, plus his and Sam’s FBI badges. There was no time to change into their monkey suits, so the badges would have to do.

Two minutes later, he and Sam were standing outside the hastily erected police cordon, which consisted of one bewildered young cop who couldn’t take his eyes off the inexplicable scene 15 feet in front of him.

Sam got Officer Dumbfounded’s attention by virtually shoving his fake badge in the poor kids face, as he marched past him toward the Subaru. Dean followed, barking “Agents Oates and Hall”. The Officer barely glanced their way, too stunned at witnessing the death of his colleague, and the impossible floating vehicle.

As they neared the car, Dean could feel something similar to static electricity tingle at his skin. It was an uncomfortable sensation and it made his teeth hurt.   He looked over at Sam and saw wisps of his ridiculous long hair standing on end.

From two foot away, which was the closest Dean wanted to get, he frowned as he studied the peculiar scene. The inverted car was tilted at an angle, with the front drivers side slightly tipping closer to the ground. The front fender was crumpled, and the windshield had a large crack in it. It had definitely come off worse than the Ford, which had managed to park up safely away from the crossroad, with barely any damage on it. The driver of the pickup, a farmer-type in his sixties, had a minor bump on his head where he must have hit the steering wheel, but seemed otherwise ok physically. Emotionally though, he looked a wreck – red faced and tearful, the supernatural sight in front of him had shattered his tiny world, and he clutched and re-clutched at the screwed up baseball cap in his hands like it was his only lifeline to sanity.

As the Subaru made another spin around, the woman inside the car came into view and Dean got a clearer look at her; blonde, somewhere in her mid-forties and with a look of complete terror on her face. Her head and arms were hanging out of the window, and her hands were outstretched, as if straining to grab hold of somebody to help drag her out. It went against all Dean’s instincts not to go to her but, now that he could see her up close, the weird flashing of her eyes kept him at arm’s length.

“You see that Sam?” Dean asked, knowing he would. Her brown eyes kept flickering to orange, on and off like a light bulb with a loose connection. It was unnerving as hell. Even spookier was the sound she was making. When her eyes were brown, she was wailing hysterically. But when her eyes were lit up like a flame, the sob was immediately choked off, and she went silent. There was no way a normal human could go from full on bawling, to full on silence every second or two, and yet here she was doing it on rinse and repeat.

“It looks like some kind of possession”, said Sam “but it keeps sputtering out, like it’s not taking. As if there’s interference of some kind.”

“Like a scrambled signal” agreed Dean. “Before we get busy exorcising or slicing and dicing, we need to know a lot more about what we’re dealing with here.” He pulled out the EMF reader and turned it on, but it barely registered.

The car continued its slow turn, and the woman’s face went out of sight. Then Dean’s heart stopped. From inside the rear of car, a kid of about 12 was squashed against the back window, tears streaming down his face.

“Shit Sammy!”

“What do we do Dean?” Sam looked at him desperately, and he knew his expression had to mirror that of his brother’s. They both took an involuntary step forward, and Officer Dumbfounded finally seemed to wake up and notice how close the brothers were to the car.

“Hey – hey get back” His voice cracked as he called out to the FBI Agents. “There’s…there’s a damaged power line under there – its dangerous. Step back from the vehicle Agents.”

Dean looked at him, with serious distain on his face. “Really? A power line? It’s not some underground power main that caused this. No electricity I’ve ever seen can cause a car to…to do _that_.” He was angry, and this idiot had managed to shred his last nerve.

Dean stomped back to the cop, jabbing a finger at the guy’s panicky face. “There’s a kid in that car Officer, _a kid_. He needs our help, and so does his mom. So I suggest you get your thumb out of your ass and try to come up with something a bit more useful than just telling us to keep back.” Dean knew he was being unfair – the cop was so far out of his depth it was a joke, but he needed to transfer his own helplessness somewhere else.

“A frigging power line…can you believe that Sam?” He turned back towards his brother, and in that moment, the electricity in the air seemed to increase exponentially. An awful buzzing sensation made him feel as if his bones were vibrating and it took his breath away. He gritted his teeth to push away the pressure but it didn’t help. Sam, who was nearer to ground zero, jerked then fell all fours as if he’d been tasered. Half a second later, as quickly as the bubble had expanded, it burst, setting off every car and house alarm within a mile radius. The Subaru crashed to the ground with an almighty crunch. The hood of the car landed on the tarmac and immediately crumpled with the force of the drop. The windshield shattered, covering Sam with tiny bits of glass and he hunched down with his hands over his head until the debris settled.

The wailing of the alarms was brain-piercing, but Sam still somehow heard the whimpers of the woman in the car. She had been halfway out of the open window when the car dropped, and her torso was crushed between the hood and the mangled door. Blood streamed from her nose and mouth, but her eyes were a clear and steady brown.

With the immediate danger now over, Sam reached forward to help the woman and assess her injuries.

“No Sam, wait…!” Dean saw it all happen in slow motion but couldn’t react fast enough. As his brother reached out and brushed the woman’s hand, an aftershock from the electrical explosion rippled through the air. In that moment, the car – along with the woman, the child and… _dear god no,_ Sam vanished, leaving nothing but remnants of glass and plastic in the middle of the road.


	4. Chapter 4

The aftershock that vaporized Sam and the car threw everyone else to the ground, including Dean, the cop and the gawping spectators who were filming all the craziness on their cell phones.

Dean was up first, racing toward the accident site in sheer terror. He was there in three seconds flat, and stood in the exact spot that Sammy had just disappeared from. Wobbling like a new-born deer, he lowered himself down on the ground, knees scraping on broken glass that he couldn’t feel. He was in shock, he knew that. He was sweating, his hands were shaking and he felt like he was about to throw up.

Sammy, his… _Sammy,_ was gone. It took everything he had just to _breathe_.

The young cop took two steps towards Dean, but one look at the man’s awful, anguished face told the kid he would be wiser to stay back and turn his immediate attention to the townsfolk instead.

Dean was a veteran at experiencing devastating grief; loss and shock had been frequent companions throughout his entire life. He sat hunched over in pain for nearly five minutes, until the familiar cold hardness crept over him and his eyes narrowed to sharp flint. Dean had a job to do and he was damn well gonna do it. He was going to hunt down whatever, or whoever, had done this to his brother and when he did…well, not even god would be able help them.

Unsteadily, boots crunching against the glass, he rose to his feet. Other than the faintest tang of ozone in the air, mixed with the slightest whiff of sulphur, nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. All the car and house alarms had stopped with that second ripple, but his ears were still ringing a high pitched tone.

Dean began to coldly and methodically criss-cross every part of the road within a 20-foot radius. The intersection looked just like the aftermath of any ordinary RTA after vehicles had been towed away. Skid marks, broken bits of debris and scratches covered the tarmac in no discernible pattern. There was nothing unusual about the road itself, no strange markings or sigils, and the tarmac was undisturbed at the centre of the crossroad, so no idiot had recently dug around there to make any deals. It would take longer to check all the shrubbery and grass for hex bags, but he would make sure to thoroughly check it later, though he was fairly convinced he wouldn’t find anything witchy.

Whilst the junction was now clear, none of the vehicles that had been waiting in the traffic moved. A few people had tried to start their cars, but it seemed all their electrics had fried. Most of these vehicles, especially the modern ones, were going nowhere for the foreseeable future. He just hoped the Impala was parked far enough away not to be affected too badly.

Dean went to take a cell phone from one of the people in the small crowd, flashing his badge as he did so. He wanted to be able to study the vaporising flash again, in detail and at length. But the aftershock had wiped out the hard drive of the borrowed iPhone. He stepped up to a teenage girl to take a look at her Samsung, but he could see she was furiously shaking it trying to bring it back to life. It didn’t take long to establish that everyone’s phones, even those that were powered off at the time, had died.

The phenomenon must have had some kind of massive electro-magnetic pulse effect, and Dean was willing to bet that it wasn’t just cars and phones that weren’t working – he doubted that anything electrical or computerised in the immediate area would ever work again. Laptops and tablets weren’t turning on, even his EMF reader was fried.

Having no video evidence or working computers would make his job harder, but not impossible. Nothing on earth was going to stop him from finding out what had happened to Sam.

The crowd mobbed together, whining about their broken phones and stranded cars. After finding out that Subaru-woman’s name was Maureen Lately, and that she and her son Billy were locals, Dean left Officer Out-Of-His-Depth to deal with their complaints, uninterested in their petty problems. Dean belatedly realised he hadn’t even asked the kid what the dead cop’s name was. There wasn’t time, or room in his head, to think about her. Instead, he hurried over to interview the driver of the Ford truck.

The old dude was still standing next to his parked truck, not having moved since the accident. He looked for all the world like there was nothing he wanted more than for this whole thing to be just a terrible dream, and to wake up from it pretty damn soon please. Like, _right goddam now_ please.

Dean knew exactly how he felt. He pushed down the waves of panic that threatened to overwhelm him, and showed the man his FBI badge.

“Sir…” His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat before trying again. “Sir…can I ask you your name please?” The old guy looked up at Dean, eyes still unfocussed. “..Sir?” Dean asked again, more loudly. This time he got a reply.

“John…John McAngus.” Speaking seemed to snap him out of his trance. “Agent…what…what’s happenin’ here…?”

“Mr McAngus, that is what I’m trying to find out. I need you to tell me _exactly_ how the accident occurred.” The man was obviously freaked out, and Dean stared hard at him until he started to talk.

“She…the car…it just seemed to swerve suddenly and then stop, bang, right in the middle of the road. There was no warning, nothin’. I was headin’ down the other side of the road, and suddenly she was driving straight toward me. Then came to a halt like she hit a brick wall. I stopped, or I thought I did, maybe a second away from hittin’ her, but my truck kept going, like it was being dragged.”

Dean interrupted. “You are sure you stopped in time not to hit her, but the car kept going? Definitely sure about your reactions?” He pointed to the footwell of the truck, at the empty Budweiser cans.

The old guy looked worried “Yeah, I’m sure of it. I...I weren’t drinkin’ or anything like that... _although I could sure do with one now_.” he added quietly.

“I’m not accusing you of anything Mr McAngus” Dean said impatiently, “I’m just trying to get the facts straight here.”

“I don’t drink and drive Agent, I swear it. Those are my sons empties from a campin’ trip…” Dean didn’t believe it for a minute, but right now, all he cared about was what had happened to Sam. And this guy’s drinking had nothing to do with what had happened here.

“So, after you hit Mrs Lately’s car, what happened next?”

The man stopped wrestling with his baseball cap, unscrewed it, and put it on his head. Then took it off again. “I don’t really know Maureen, not well anyway. But her face…her face when the car just suddenly flipped upside down. I was close enough to see her face. She was so scared…”

“So the car just flipped over? By itself?”

“Ayup. Seemed like for a second, all the gravity got turned off or somethin’. I can’t explain it. One moment it was four good wheels on the ground like god intended, and then…then suddenly it wasn’t. _Her eyes_ …”

He zoned out again, and Dean had to snap his fingers in the man’s face to bring him back. “And once the car was…upside down, what happened?”

“I’m ashamed to say I…I backed up the truck quick-smart, so I don’t know any more after that.”

“Mr McAngus, one last question then you can be on your way. Just before the crash, was it suddenly cold? Was there any bad smells or anything else weird you can think of?”

The guy stared at Dean like he didn’t even know what weird was anymore. “Wasn’t cold, but hot. Real hot. And yeah, an awful smell. Eggs or somethin’.”

Dean let the man go back to his useless truck, and turned away, thinking hard. The crossroads setting, the smell of sulphur, and the flickering of Mrs Lately’s eyes that looked like a possession trying to take hold, this had to be demonic. But to vaporize an entire car? There was a lot more to this than just demons.

Damn, he needed Sam’s help to figure this out, but Sam was the one person he couldn’t ask. Not half an hour ago, his brother was snoring happily in the car…and now he was…was Sam _dead_? Truly and properly?… _no_ , no he couldn’t go there. He pushed the thought out of his tired, stressed mind.

The location had to be a major part of this, no question. As he walked back up to the centre of the intersection, the week-long heatwave seemed to break, and although it was still only…well whatever the time was…his damn watch had also stopped at 7.46am, the skies began to darken and torrential rain fell in droves, soaking Dean and making sure the last of the spectators kept out of his way, running back to their homes, or their paralysed cars.

He stood in the warm rain, watching it wash away Maureen Lately’s blood stains. The thought that he had lost his brother, this time forever, surfaced again, threatening to dangerously distract him. Knowing he needed to think clearly and _concentrate_ , he mentally shook his head and almost immediately felt an itching at his back. He was being watched.

Eyes narrowing, Dean held a hand up against his face to shield his vision from the downpour, and realised only then that he didn’t have a gun with him. He turned slowly, scanning for the mystery stalker.

Fire and fury _burned_ through him when he saw the figure dressed in black standing at the kerbside where he and Sam had stood as spectators just a short time ago.

_Crowley._


	5. Chapter 5

_God the smell, the smell!_

Sam burst awake, retching and gasping for fresh air. Instead, the overwhelming stench of sulphur assaulted him with every breath. Choking, and desperately trying not to panic at the shortage of good oxygen, Sam forced himself up from the damp, cold surface he was lying on. His head swam with mild asphyxiation and he knew he hadn’t felt this bad, this sick, since the trials a few years ago. He leaned heavily against a huge boulder and coughed until he felt his lungs were about to burst. With fingers that felt three sizes too large, he just about managed to unbutton his plaid shirt and wrapped it around his nose and mouth, forcing himself to take small shallow breaths, until the coughing fit stopped. It didn’t improve the air quality, but at least it lessened the awful smell some.

Blearily Sam looked around to see he was mainly in darkness, the only light source was the headlamps of the crumpled Subaru and its blinkers, flashing red light on and off, on and off, strobing shadows and shapes around him into a nightmarish vision.

His foggy brain worked too slowly, trying to work out what was happening. He didn’t think he was dead. _No_ …he’d been dead before and this wasn’t it. He didn’t think he was in Hell either, he’d been there too - although the rank smell was mighty similar. It felt like he was underground, in some kind of cavern. But how did he, and the car, get here? And…Jesus, _Dean_! _Where was Dean_? Could he be somewhere down here too? He remembered a flash behind his eyes, the spasming sensation of an electric shock and then waking up here with a pounding headache and a tightness in his chest that wasn’t easing up.

He called out. “Dean? DEAN?” but got no reply. He hoped to god that Dean was safe and sound topside, out in the fresh air and searching for a way to rescue his brother.

The smell of the sulphur combined with the incessant flashing lights was nauseating. He had to get over to the vehicle and turn those blinkers off before he threw up everywhere. Then he could maybe concentrate on finding out what was going on.

Sam stumbled the short way over to the upside-down car. The blonde driver was still half out of the shattered window frame, unconscious and heavily bleeding. Sam reached down and checked her pulse. Barely there. There was probably a first aid kit somewhere in the trunk, but band-aids and alcohol wipes would be pretty useless, she looked to have lost so much blood that unless she got to a hospital in the very, very near future she was certainly going to die soon.

He didn’t like to just leave her here like this, but it would cause more harm than good if he tried to move her, sections of twisted metal from the door frame and roof were too deeply embedded inside her torso. Helplessly, Sam whispered to her, brushing her hair away from her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”  

He stood up, spots forming in front of his eyes, and walked round to the rear of the Subaru Crosstrek. The back was in relatively good shape with the rear window still intact. Sam peered into the dark car through the glass and called out to the boy he had seen earlier. “Hey, hey kid, you in there? You alright?” His voice was raspy, and talking brought on a minor coughing fit.

Sam frowned, and went round to the back door. The dancing shadows made it hard to see clearly inside the vehicle. Leaning forwards, and cupping his hands over the window he called out “Kid?”, then jumped back in surprise as the boy’s face suddenly appeared pressed up against the window. Heart banging harder against his chest than it normally would, he tried to pull open the upside-down rear door to let the kid out, but it wouldn’t open. Holding onto the car for support, he walked round the other side of the vehicle and tried the remaining doors, but they were wedged shut by the crumpled roof.

Sam called out. “Kid? _No_ , I can’t keep calling you kid…what’s your name?”

Between coughs, the boy answered quietly, “Billy, sir”. His face was tear-streaked and frightened.

Sam pulled his shirt away from his nose and mouth, so the boy could see him clearly. “Hey Billy, I’m Sam. Can you tell me - are you OK? Are you injured at all?”

“Sam? I’m ok I guess. I think.”

Sam breathed out slowly. The relief that the boy was ok took away at least one of his mounting concerns.

“Billy, do you have any water in the car? Something to drink? Food maybe?”

“No, my mom was taking me to school and then she was going to do the big shop.” Billy was sounding wheezy. “Sam, what’s that horrible smell? It’s so hard to breathe...”

“I know it smells bad, but we should be ok for a little while. Try not to talk too much, and breathe slowly if you can.”

“Sam - my mom…is she…”

Sam interrupted. “Billy, do you think you can get to the front of the car? Is there room to climb under the seats at all?”

Sam got an immediate reaction from the kid, but not the one he was hoping for. At the thought of crawling by his dying mom’s body, Billy’s face disappeared from the window, and Sam imagined him scooting backwards to the rear of the vehicle again.

“Billy, look…your mom’s not dead. I mean, she’s hurt, but she’s not dead. Can you try to get out of the car? Billy..?” No response came, except for a bout of infectious coughing which Sam duly caught. He hurriedly retied the shirt around his lower face.

When the inverted car had crashed to the ground, it had been angled front side down. The hood of the car had crumpled and the rear was tilted higher in the air. Looking at the scrunched up front window closely, Sam realised it was going to be a lot harder to squeeze through than he had initially thought. Billy could maybe get through the gap, but that didn’t seem a likely outcome, given the kids terror. Anyway it might be best for the kid to stay in the car for the time being. He could always smash one of the intact rear windows if he had to get him out.

He also decided he had to leave the maddening blinkers on for the time being. He could probably crouch down further and reach an arm through to switch them off, but he didn’t have the faintest clue of who, or what, was lurking nearby and to literally be caught with his ass in the air didn’t appeal to him.

Frustrated, Sam stood back up again, slowly to avoid getting dizzy. With no food, no water, barely any good air, and a kid to keep safe, his anxiety levels were at stresscon 2.

“Billy, I need to take a quick look around. I promise I won’t be long. Stay in the car, and if you see or hear anything you don’t like, shout out to me immediately, ok?”

Sam decided to explore towards the front of the car first, where the headlamp beams shone furthest. The rocky ground was damp with slime, and Sam slipped almost immediately after letting go of the car. This wasn’t going to be easy. He cautiously carried on, lurching from one giant boulder to another. He reached the point where the light began to fade and looked around. There was still nothing helpful to see – the walls of the cave, or cavern, or wherever the hell he was weren’t visible. Sam headed around in an anti-clockwise direction, still keeping the Subaru in sight at all times. Without the main beams lighting the way, Sam could barely see in front of him. He pulled out his cell phone which lit up immediately, and swore at not thinking of it sooner. He had 60% battery but, of course, there was no signal so he simply shone the cell in front of him, giving him about half a foot of light.

Sam managed to make a complete circuit around the car, before a very faint glow caught his eye. It was behind the point where he had first woken up, around maybe 30 feet away. It was hard to tell as the glow flickered on and off. With a cold start, it reminded him of Billy’s mom’s eyes, just before they got dragged down to…wherever this was.

Sam almost took a deep breath to steel his nerves, but remembered just in time not to. Armed with nothing but his cell phone held out in front of him, he clenched his jaw and stepped towards the pale shimmering light.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley finding an admirable trait in anyone but himself was a rare, rare thing.

But…the undiluted, raging _murder_ in Dean Winchester’s eyes was pure poetry. If only his own demons could raise themselves up to this level of raw violence, instead of just whining on and on ( _so boring_ ), stabbing each other in the back ( _meh - understandable_ ) or indulging in petty but small cruelties ( _great in the short term, but not the be all and end all_ ).

Dean, on the other hand, had endured the effects of the Mark of Cain, even became an actual Demon for a short time, and yet the feral aura coming off him now as a plain and simple human was _incredible_. If you ever wanted to come across furious indignation in its purest form, well…you couldn’t find anyone better than a Winchester. Wind ‘em up and watch ‘em go.

Something else was going on here, however. It wasn’t only fury rearing its ugly head - another emotion was hiding itself very badly under the surface. Crowley mulled it over as Dean faced him. Yeah, that was it. Gut-wrenching _panic_.

This, being Dean Winchester, could predictably only mean one thing.

“Where’s Moose?” Crowley asked.

Dean exploded towards him like a missile. Crowley stopped him from getting any closer than arm’s length; even the King of Hell wasn’t mad enough to let an enraged Dean Winchester get to within touching distance. Dean might be a man who dressed cheap, drank cheap and whored cheap, but Crowley had long since learned never to underestimate him where “his Sammy” was involved (and yes, he did mentally air-quote that). Bleurgh, their bromance made him sick to his stomach.

Launching a stream of curses at the demon, Dean’s anger drove him to the point of insensibility. Crowley rolled his eyes and let the lunatic wear himself out. Meanwhile his wool suit was soaked through from the pouring rain.

“You done?” He asked, as the tirade eventually dried up. “I take it, from the garbled, unintelligible nonsense coming out of your chops, that Sam has disappeared? Died? Either that, or moved to Florida…I couldn’t quite make it out amidst all the naughty words…”

It wasn’t just the rain that distorted Dean’s face, twisting his features. “Crowley, you piece of filth, I swear I will find a way to make you pay unless you tell me what the hell just happened to my brother...”

The Demon held up both hands in mock-surrender, and tried out an honest face. Hell, even though he _was_ in the clear on this one it still felt very unnatural. Made him feel all dirty inside, and not in the good way. “Dean, I can assure you I’ve done nothing to Sam. I don’t know anything about what’s gone on here. In fact, what _did_ happen here…?”

Unsurprisingly, Dean ignored his declaration of innocence. “Crowley, you know I’m good for my word. I _will_ find a way to end you, and when I do it won’t be pretty. I guarantee it.”

Crowley knew Dean meant it - the older Winchester could be a dangerous opponent when he put his mind to it. But, how to convince the hysterical bastard he was innocent?

“Dean, calm your knickers. I swear on my mother’s…well, I just swear that I had nothing to do with whatever any of this is. All I’ve seen since I arrived here - which was all of about fifty seconds ago by the way - is rain, more rain, a lot of dead cars and a raving bloody nutcase!”

Dean sneered and waved his hands. “Oh, ok. So with all the flashing eyes, and the sulphur and the crossroads, you just suddenly turn up but it’s nothing but a big coincidence?”

“Oh no, there’s no coincidence about it at all.”

“Come again?” Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“Cause and effect, Dean, cause and effect.” Crowley could see he wasn’t getting anywhere, and sighed wearily, and theatrically. “Look, something ordinary occurs at a crossroad? That’s what my minions are for. But if the supernatural equivalent of a nuclear bomb goes off at one of my crossroads? That’s going to get my attention.”

“So…what - you felt a disturbance in the force and decided to make time in your busy schedule for an away visit?”

“Take a gold star and go to the top of the class.” Crowley wandered over to the centre of the junction and laid a palm down on the wet tarmac. “I worked the crossroads longer than any other demon, ever, in the history of all demon-kind. Of course it’s no coincidence I was drawn here...” He shivered. “There’s sentience down there. Very old power. Untapped and just waiting for someone to…”

He stopped, not wanting to let Dean follow his train of thought. He didn’t have to settle for Amara being the only egg in his basket; it seemed he had just stumbled across another rich natural vein he could take advantage of.

Dean had heard enough and stomped over. “I couldn’t give a damn about you, or your desire for power. But that thing down there that you want to mine, it knows what happened to my brother!”

“Can’t keep anything from you, can I Dean?”

“I don’t care about your motives, I just…I just want Sam back.”

“And what about the small fact that he might be, no - sorry, _probably is_ … dead?”

“I need to know. And then stab in the neck whatever killed him. And you are going to help me.”

“I don’t need to do a damn thing to help you. Or your brother.” Crowley allowed some anger to creep into his voice “Remember, it wasn’t that long ago that your idiot brother tried to KILL ME!”

“Yeah and it’s a hell of a shame he didn’t succeed!”

“We are done here Dean. I’m going hunting. Drop you a post card. Or not.” Crowley raised a hand, ready to snap his fingers and disappear into the goldmine below.

The struggle on Dean’s face was a painful thing to watch. “… _wait_!”

And just like that, Crowley held all the cards again. He tried not to look smug. “You want my help? First, tell me what happened here.”

Dean pursed his lips, obviously frustrated. “We didn’t get here that long ago ourselves. We weren’t even on a case, just stopped here in traffic ‘cause there was a car crash at the centre of the junction.”

“Seems normal enough so far…so, why didn’t you go around…?”

“The car was three foot off the ground, upside down, and spinning like a fairground ride.”

 _Interesting_. “Ok! Now you have my attention. Continue…”

Dean shot him such a filthy look it could have melted lead. “The woman in the car, her eyes were flashing orange on and off. Then the air went all electrical and the car suddenly hit the ground. Sammy went to help, but as soon as he touched her there was another electrical whatever it was and the car...the car and Sam and the woman driver disappeared.”

“Disappeared? How?”

“What do you mean how? Like one minute they were here, the next they were gone. Oh, and before we got involved a cop went to help the woman, and she was vaporised too. Then it started to rain. And nothing electrical works, no phones, no cars, no laptops.”

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much. Isn’t that enough?”

“Certainly food for thought. I’ll give you that.”

“So what now Crowley? You gonna zap us down there and see what’s what?”

“No Dean, I’m going to zap _me_ down there to see what’s what. Then I’m going to have a nice quiet chat with the darling creature and persuade it that I’m his new best friend. I’ll have a nose about for Moose if I can, but I can’t promise anything. See you around Dean…” He waggled his fingers bye bye, and grinned.

“No...wait, you son of a bitch!” Even though Crowley had already begun to spin his mojo, Dean lunged for him anyway, so it was debateable as to who was more surprised when Crowley didn’t actually vanish, and Dean, still in his flying leap, knocked the King of Hell on his ass.

Dean landed heavily on top of him, pushing half of Crowley’s face into a deep puddle of water. The rain was bouncing knee high and, for a moment, he couldn’t see. Then he mustered up his anger and threw himself upright with a roar, leaving Dean on the wet ground.

Crowley was spitting nails he was so shocked. He had no idea why he was still getting pissed on from a great height on this backwater crossroad, rather than basking in some nice cosy lair cuddling up to his new money-maker.

He flounced away from Dean, stood directly at the centre of the crossroad and tried again.

Dean stood up, and began to chuckle nastily. “Hey Crowley, that face you’re making…you’re not constipated are you?”

He tried again. Nothing happened. Three, then four, then five minutes passed with no success.

“Don’t sweat it Crowley, it happens to most men at some point in their lives. Well, when I say most men, it’s not happened to me so far. Just relax and take your time, flaccid is not the worst word that begins with F…”

Red faced with effort (and with no small touch of shame), Crowley turned to Dean. “I can’t get down there! I don’t know why…there’s something blocking me.”

“Maybe it’s your new best pal?” Dean said, sarcastically. “It serves you right, you selfish asshole, karma’s a bitch. I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but it aint. Adios, Crowley.” Dean turned and walked away.

Crowley, frustrated at the turn of events, was more determined than ever to find out what was obstructing him. Nothing, and no one, was going to best him. And, as it happened, there was only one sure-fire way he knew of getting what he wanted. But…he needed Dean’s help. Not that he would ever tell _him_ that.

“Dean – you need me. If you walk now, you lose your best shot at getting Sam back.”

Dean turned back round. “And how’s that? Your limp efforts to get down there haven’t worked so far.”

“There IS a way to get down there and find out what happened to Sam, but you aren’t going to like it.”

“I don’t like anything about any of this. Convince me you can help, Crowley, or I’ll find that monster of yours on my own, and make sure you _never_ get the chance to get your hands on it.”

“Come on – let’s be reasonable. You want down there. I want down there. So…let’s make a deal.”

“A deal. With you? Seriously?”

“Dean, the power of a deal trumps anything. I can give you anything you want, even the impossible, but only if its part of a deal.”

Dean stared at him, like he had grown two heads. “I’m not making a deal with you. Not now, not ever!”

“Look, if it’s the soul nonsense you’re worried about, you don’t have to be. We can do this with just a simple agreement. I’ve done it before.”

“The thing is…it’s not that I don’t trust you Crowley, it’s just that I don’t trust you _AT ALL_.”

“Dean – you and me – we go way back.   You _KNOW_ I really can take you to wherever the source of Sam’s disappearance is. And all I want in return is first dibs on whatever we find down there. Come on…that’s more than fair! What do you say hey? We gonna go save your baby brother…?” He smiled.

Dean looked as if he might throw up. But he didn’t walk away.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to update. I will post the next chapter sooner.

The closer Sam got, the clearer he could make out the shape of the glimmer. Unlike topside where it was just the driver’s eyes that glowed, Sam could see the insipid light now had a humanoid shape to it. It wasn’t until he was almost at arm’s length that he realised he was looking at the cop who had been vaporised when she went to help the woman after the crash. _Not vaporised, Sam_ thought, _transported._ The light of his cell phone lit up the printed badge on her uniform. Her name was Mayberry.

The cop reminded Sam of times spent under his covers as a kid in bed, reading a book by the light of a torch. He would sometimes hold the torch beam against his hand and be amazed at how alien it looked as the light shone through. Whilst not entirely see through, Mayberry’s body was definitely translucent and he could see her veins threaded through the pale orange light. Even through her uniform, he thought he could see a darker shape that had to be her heart pulsing. He took that as a good sign, surely her heart wouldn’t be beating if she was dead?

The rotten smell was worse here, and Sam fought against the cough that threatened to erupt from his throat. “Um…Officer Mayberry? Can you hear me?”

Mayberry’s eyes lit up as he spoke, and she raised her head to directly face him “Officer, do you know what’s happening to you? Can you talk?”

The cop ignored Sam’s questions and began to shuffle toward him. She moved awkwardly, like a marionette being controlled by a drunk puppeteer. Sam stumbled back a step. As she closed the gap between them, the radiance brightened and he could see her skin begin to redden and blister. Sliding about on the damp flooring, Sam continued to back up as fast as he could, but Mayberry kept on walking towards him and the light coming off of her was growing.

Realising too late that he had had led her back towards the car, and to the child he felt responsible for, he abruptly changed angle towards the headlamp beams, and away from Billy.

At first, it seemed to be working; she didn’t give the Subaru a second glance until she was standing almost directly next to it.

Then Billy’s mom let out a small moan of pain, and Mayberry’s eyes suddenly snapped towards her.

“No…hey! HEY, over here!” Sam shouted. He waved his hands at her, succeeding in trying to catch her attention.

She turned back towards him, and the glow not only brightened further, it also got noticeably hotter, and her uniform began to smoulder. She jerked forwards again, faster this time, and now her skin began to crack and darken in places, like charcoal. Embers of the black crust began to flake away, and Sam was horrified to realise that the cop’s body was literally cooking itself in front of him.

Whatever was inside the officer, it was struggling. All this time she had made no sound, but as Mayberry began to twist and turn, and the fire continued to burn its way out of her, he could hear her skin crackling and popping. Ash flew through the thin air.

Then the light became too painful to look at anymore. Sam blinked, and even with his eyes closed could still see the bright afterglow of her, against the black cavern.

He dropped his phone and pressed both palms over his eyelids, and still the light poured through. “BILLY!” He shouted loudly. “Cover your eyes! Don’t look at the light!”

Frightened at the thought he might be permanently blinded by the brilliance, and what she would do if she caught up him, he turned and stumbled away from the car, but almost immediately fell. With his hands still pressed against his face, he was unable to protect himself and the top of his head bashed against a sharp rock. Blood ran down his neck, and it actually felt cooler than the hotter air around him.  

Sam knew he was in a desperate situation. Blind, trapped and being chased by some kind of fire monster that stank worse than a skunk on a barbecue, it took all his resolve to scramble back up to his feet.

And then…then the light just disappeared. The heat too.

It was such a surprise that he didn’t believe it at first. Hesitantly, Sam took his hands away from his face and used his arms to steady himself.

After a short time he tried opening his eyes, but his retinas had taken a pounding and all he could see was the afterburn of her image. Without any real vision to rely on, he strained his ears to get a clue as to what was happening, but all he noticed was how ragged his breathing was.

“Billy?” He called out softly. Then again, louder. “Billy?” He got no response.

Blinking furiously, trying to clear his sight, he cautiously stepped forward, worried sick about what he was walking towards.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam stumbled on, with his arms outstretched in front of him. He desperately hoped he was going in the right direction toward the car – if he had gotten turned around and went too far, he wasn’t sure how he would find his way back to Billy.

Aside from the noise of blood rushing in his ears, everything seemed so quiet. Blinded, he had no idea what was going on, what had happened to the fire monster, and whether the kid was ok.

He hated the darkness, hated feeling so vulnerable. What he wouldn’t give to be able to see even those damn blinkers. Plus, his cut head was throbbing, his bruised lungs hurt like a bitch, hell even his _face_ hurt. He ran a hand over his forehead before quickly pulling it away in pain – it felt like the worst case of sunburn he ever had. He was sure he could feel blisters forming on his skin.

Sam could endure a lot, _had_ endured a lot, many times over, but his breathing quickened and he knew he was close to panicking; without being able to see or having any way of defending himself, getting out of here seemed too long a shot. But still, he kept walking, the air feeling thinner than ever.

Then, with all the magnitude of a life preserver being thrown to a drowning man, he heard someone call his name. It was faint, but unmistakeable. “Sam…? SAM?!”

“Billy!” He shouted back, “keep calling out to me…”

He followed the sound of the voice, but it wasn’t until he got closer that he realised, with horror, it was too deep to be the kid’s. Hackles rising, he immediately stopped, furiously blinking and rubbing at his eyelids to try and relieve the spotlight that had permanently settled at the centre of his eyesight.

A hand grabbed the back of his collar and he yelped in surprise, fists already rising to meet the unknown threat.

“Hey..hey Sammy, it’s me..its Dean…slow down there buddy!”

“Dean? Oh god, Dean is that you?” Sam began to shake in relief. _Thank god, thank god_. He wasn’t alone down here anymore, and now he finally had a pair of eyes that he could trust

“Jesus Sammy, what happened to you? You look like you’ve taken an all-inclusive on the surface of the Sun…and you’re covered in blood!”

Sam grabbed him, held him close. Dean knew his brother was no wimp, so for him to be shaking like this something bad must have gone down here.

“You can see?” Sam asked, almost childlike.

“Yeah I can see; the car headlamps are lighting you up like a Christmas tree. What…you mean you can’t?”

“Dean…I can’t see a damn thing. I think…I think I might be blind.” He grabbed Dean’s collar. “It’s not safe…there’s some kind of fire monster down here…” Fear started to rise again in Sam’s voice until Dean grabbed his burnt wrists.

“Its ok Sammy, whatever it was, it’s gone.” Hearing the calmness in Dean’s voice, he let go of the tight grip on his brother’s collar.

Dean continued talking. “But man, it _stinks_ down here. Worse than that time Bobby burnt out that nest of Porcives, you remember? Took two weeks to get the smell off us, and I had to get rid my favourite jacket, that leather one that was a hit with the ladies. You laughed your head off until you realised that no shampoo on earth was getting the smell of it out of your shaggy hair and you had to finally trim some of those locks off…”

Sam knew what Dean was trying to do, and was grateful for it, until another voice cut through Dean’s calming chuckle.

“Enough chit chat boys…I want to hear more about this fire monster.”

 _Crowley?_ “Dean, what’s Crowley doing here…?” His surprise set off another coughing fit.

Crowley growled and moved towards Sam “A damn sight better than you, by the looks of it. And don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your prior murderous intent towards me. But that’s an argument for another day. In the meantime, allow me to display my stunning benevolence…” Sam started to back away, but he felt a rough hand grip his forehead.

“You can thank my Royal Magnificence for Sub-Clause B, Bullet Point Three that Dean forgot to ask for. And a bloody good job too that I remembered to put it in there, cause a blind Moose would be an even worse hindrance than a normal Moose down here.”

Sam attempted to jerk away from Crowley’s touch. “You made a deal? Dean, what were you THINKING?”

As his vision began to clear, Dean’s guilty face swam into view and Crowley finally let go of his head, muttering about not getting the thanks he deserved.

A soaking wet Dean, hair plastered across his forehead said “What was I supposed to do Sam? You disappeared right in front of me! Do you honestly think I would let that go?”

Sam sighed. "…No.” He knew Dean too well to think anything else. “But a deal? With him? In exchange for what?”

Crowley interrupted. “That I get first crack at the whip of whatever we find down here. Your fire monster. Speaking of which…?”

Sam pursed his lips. “That’s all? Dean is that true?” Dean nodded.

Reassured, Sam unclenched hands that he never knew had tightened. Crowley hadn’t removed the burns, the cut head, or the tightness in his chest, but just having his sight back made him feel like he was firing on all cylinders again. “Fine, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. But we have to check on Billy.”

“Oh, by the way Sammy, I found your cell.” Dean handed it back to him. “How come it still works? Everything electrical topside got fried.”

“Uh, being at ground zero I guess.” Sam shrugged. “I mean the car headlamps are still working - thankfully.” _And I can see those damn blinkers again_. “Hey, how come you’re both soaking wet?”

“After you and the car disappeared, it began to rain. And it didn’t stop. Far as I know it’s still going on.” After the warm air up top, Dean shivered in the coolness of the cave.

Looking around him, Sam could see they were almost directly in front of the Subaru. He headed around to where he had last seen the fire monster. There was nothing but charred ashes in a black heap on the ground. Sam pointed at it has he walked past. “There’s your fire monster. Or what’s left of it, anyway. And the remains of Officer Mayberry, the woman it was possessing.”

He reached Billy’s unconscious mom and took a moment to check her pulse. Far too weak. “Can you help her Crowley?”

Crowley was crouching down, gingerly poking at the remains of the cop with one finger. “What am I, some bleeding heart?” Crowley looked at them aghast. “No.” He answered firmly. “I’m NOT your pet demon.”

Sam glanced at Dean and saw his own disgusted expression reflected in his brothers face at Crowley’s indifference to suffering.

“Her name is Maureen Lately.” Dean went over to her and held her hand, as Sam walked round to the back of the car, peering inside for Billy. “She’s a mom, and she’s dying.” Suddenly Dean scrambled back, a horrified expression on his face. “And she has glowing ORANGE EYES…”

Sam whirled around instantly, ignoring the sudden dizzy spell. “Dean…get away from her. NOW!”  


	9. Chapter 9

“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Dean moved swiftly, and stood next to his brother. Crowley, on the other hand, moved slowly towards the woman.

Sam spoke up. “That’s a bad idea Crowley. The fire monster has obviously moved inside Mrs Lately. Last time it began to glow and burn, the host disintegrated. I really don’t think it’s a good idea to get near her….”

Crowley scowled. “When I want your opinion, Moose, I’ll tell you it. And remember the ‘Deal’? – this fire monster is MINE.”

Dean didn’t regret his decision to take that deal, not for a minute, but _man_ he hated Crowley’s smug arrogance. So he shrugged. “Sammy, it’s up to him. Let him burn for all I care. I just want to get us out of here alive.”

Sam looked at Dean and quietly whispered. “And without Crowley, how the hell do we get out of...wherever the hell we are?”

“We’re directly under the crossroad, several hundred feet down. And I would rather take my chances with you, than with him…”

“Dean – you’re forgetting something. What about the kid? We might be able to somehow find our way back up through several hundred feet of rock. Which I don’t think we can do, by the way. But a scared kid is definitely not gonna make it. We have no food, no water and barely any air…”

Dean cursed, Sam was right.

A scraping noise made Dean turn his head away from Sam’s insistent gaze, and towards Maureen Lately.  “Oh, this can’t be good…” Dean muttered. The woman’s skin had turned a dim translucent orange and she was clawing at the ground around her.

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm. “We have to get Billy out of the car. Now.”

Dean peered inside the back window, and saw the kid was crouched as far away from his mother as he could get.

“Billy…Billy!” He called. “I’m going to smash the rear window. Find a blanket or something to cover yourself up then get down.” He looked around for something heavy and saw a fist sized rock not far. He bent down to pick it up and his vision swam for a moment. The lack of good air was beginning to take its toll. And the wet clothes were chilling his core faster than he would have liked. But, his brother was depending on him, so he couldn’t let it show.

Hefting the rock in one hand, he gave the kid one final warning to get back, before punching it against the glass. It took several attempts before a crack appeared, then with one final attempt, the rear window shattered. His breathing was heavy with the effort, and the large lungful’s of sulphur made him gag and cough.

Sam grabbed Dean and forced him to sit down. “Its ok, I’ve got this.” He reached through the back window and held his red, blistered arms out. “Billy, come on…quickly now.”  To Dean’s relief, he saw his brother pull the terrified kid from the car, and they both flopped to the ground.

Sam scrambled back onto his knees and joined his brother. “It was already starting to get hot inside the car Dean...we don’t have long before she goes nuclear.”

“Then let’s move.” He could also now feel the air getting warmer, and whilst he was grateful not to feel so damn cold for a moment, he also knew it was about to get way too toasty.

But he decided to give the King of Hell one final chance. “Crowley! Come on – let’s get out of here!” Crowley, a lustful smile plastered across his face, ignored him. Like a kid in a candy shop, it seemed the fire monster was all of his Christmases come at once.

“That’s right beautiful…come to daddy…” Crowley was beckoning Mrs Lately out of the car. She had managed to get a grip on the stone floor and was pulling herself out. She seemed not to notice the metal that was embedded in her torso, or how it was gouging at her insides as she began to raise herself up.

Billy, now on his feet, saw everything and began to sob hysterically. Sam grabbed him and held on tight, covering the view with his body.  Dean wanted to run, but stood transfixed as the woman, now raised to her full height began to shine brighter. He was sickened as he saw the fat underneath her skin bubble.

And then she spoke, plumes of hot air billowing from her mouth.

< _YOU_ ….> She croaked, raising a glowing arm and pointing it at Crowley. She smiled widely, and her teeth glowed red. <… _MINE_ >.

Crowley’s grin fell away faster than hot shit off a shovel. “Hang on darling, I think you’ve got this the wrong way around.” He motioned at Sam, and said in a loud whisper _“You didn’t say it could talk!”_

Sam looked as shocked as everyone else. “Um – that’s cos it didn’t say anything before. Maybe its learning?”

Crowley began to back away from the fire monster, and made towards the Winchesters. “I’m beginning to think you might be right about taking this a bit more slowly…”

Faster than anyone thought capable, she reached out a hand and grabbed hold of Crowley’s wrist. He screamed as it burned.

Mrs Lately/the fire monster seemed quite taken with the demon, her fiery eyes fixated intensely on him. <… _WHAT ARE YOU? >_

He fell to his knees, shouting “What do you mean, what am I? I’m the bloody King of Hell! Let go of me you bitch!”  She retained her grip on his wrist, and thrust her other hand against his face. She shuddered, and so did Crowley as the heat and light intensified.

Dean felt a hand on his arm, and turned to see Sam’s worried face. “I know how this ends – we have to move NOW!” Dean nodded. Sam swept Billy into his arms and they began to run into the dark.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry its taken so long to update. I'm back on it now, and will make sure this gets finished.

Crowley was in a world of hurt. He could feel pain at a molecular level; every single one of his cells – human AND demon was burning.

The fire monster was inside him, swirling and racing through his veins, but so far he wasn’t physically disintegrating. Well, he didn’t think so anyway. He tried to move, to look down at his body but found he was locked out of the pilot’s cockpit. So he tried to smoke out, figuring that if his body was soon to go up in flames he ought to leave PDQ, but this damn mysterious entity had put the kybosh on that too.

_Shit, possession wasn’t nearly as much fun this way around._

He summoned up his not inconsiderable mental strength and tried to dial down the heat so he could think more clearly. He was angry. Mightily angry. Furious. _THE KING OF HELL DID NOT GET POSSESSED – HE DID THE DAMN POSSESSING!_   

This bitch obviously didn’t know who she was messing with. But she would find out.

At the back of his mind he imagined Dean Winchester laughing at him. _Impotent_ again _Crowley? Shame on you!_ He swallowed it down with a side dose of screw you and fought to get his bearings.

It took longer than it should have to realise he was on the move; especially as the thing possessing him walked like a toddler on a bouncy castle. Weirder still, looking out at the cave through his own eyes, but using the bitch’s freaky infra-red vision to actually _see_ was far-out trippy.

In front of him, scurrying away as fast as they could were three brightly lit up heat signatures. He didn’t much care what happened to the Winchesters, or the snotty kid; they could die a fiery death in the worst possible way and he wouldn’t give it a passing thought. But Crowley always liked to keep a backup plan up his sleeve – and for that he needed a bigger picture of what was going down.

So he asked.

“Hellooo…? Anybody there…?”

It was no more than a tickle, but there was a definite response to his thoughts. Smug pride washed over him; if it was sentient, if it could _communicate_ , then happy days – Crowley was confident he could talk his way out of anything.

“Hello, hello? Can we chat for a moment? Let me introduce myself; my name is Crowley and it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you. Do you have a name darling? Something I can call you?”

They stopped walking. He could feel her squirming and burning inside his lungs and throat. Inside his _blood_. Now he knew what it felt like to be a lit cigarette.

<…ESHEMIEL>

The sound of her voice scraped his brain raw from the inside out, but he fixed himself a huge smile, and tried to keep his manner pleasant. “Enchanted, Eshemial. They always say: ‘a stranger is a friend you haven’t yet met’. And now we’ve met, I would like to think we are friends?”

Silence.

“Eshemial? Do you mind if I ask you sweetheart, and I don’t mean to be personal…but what are you?”

<…ESHEMIEL>

“No, _what_ are you?”

<…ESHEMIEL>

“Yeah I bloody know that love, you told me your name already. But what _are_ you? What manner of being?”

This time there was a longer pause

<…OLD>

Crow internally sighed. It was like talking to a simpleton. A very _powerful_ simpleton. “Alright, let’s try a new tactic. What do you want?”

The temperature inside his body rose uncomfortably again. <…TO SEE>

“See what?”

<…TO SEE ALL>

 _Riiight_. “Eshemial, love? Could you dial back the heat a bit? It’s getting kind of hot in here?”

No response, no decrease in temperature. “Eshemial?”

She threw a question back at him. <…WHAT ARE YOU?>

“Always happy to clarify for one such as charming as yourself.   I’m a demon. And not just any demon – I’m the King of Hell – King of ALL the demons. I’m powerful, someone of note and influence, and I find you very well met, my new friend.”

<… WHAT IS A DEMON?>

“How can I explain? Have you ever heard of angels?”

This time the answer was quick. <…YES!>

“Okay – good! Well, one specific angel, an archangel in fact, made demons. His name was Lucifer.”

<…LUCIFER! PRETTY>

Crowley nearly choked in surprise. Well, he would have done if he was in control of his own throat. “You think Lucifer is pretty? Do you _know_ him?”

<…YES! BEFORE. LUCIFER PRETTY>

Crowley’s heart pounded. Well, again, it didn’t but it would have done if he was in control of it. “Then we have a mutual friend in common! I’m also friends with Lucifer.”

<…LUCIFER FRIEND. CROWLEY FRIEND>

“Yes! Exactly! It’s serendipity love – we were meant to get together, you and I.” The heat was beyond stifling now. If he could have reached up and loosened his collar, he would have done so.

<…WHY LUFICER SCREAM?>

Crowley paused for a moment, wondering how best to play this. “You _heard_ him?”

<…WOKE ME. WHY LUFICER SCREAM?>

“Hey Eshemial…I’ve an idea - would you like to ask him that yourself? I’m sure he would love to catch up with an old friend…”

<…YES…YES>

“Fantastic! I can make this happen. First though, love, I really need you to find another host to wear. Put one of those Winchesters on, maybe – I’m sure the taller one would be a comfy fit. Then I can take you to see Lucifer. Yes?”

<…NO LEAVE. DEMON CROWLEY. WE TOGETHER>

“Darling, listen to me. As your friend, I’m telling you - it’s too hot for me in here…I…” Not that he was panicking or anything – of course not - but words like dread, terror, alarm and anxiety were making their presence felt.

<…SOFT CREATURES BURN TOO FAST. YOU SUSTAIN>

The internal temperature went up again, and Crowley found himself losing his grip. She was too strong, too much for him and his own life-force was being squashed under the immense pressure. “ _Eshemiel_! I don’t have the mojo to get us both to Hell whilst you are inside of me. You understand? I can’t get us out of here, can’t take you to see our friend if you stay in me…”

He found himself praying, god only knows who to, for her to _bloody well listen to him_!

Eshemiel began lurching forward again like a clockwork toy.

<… CROWLEY FRIEND. WE SUSTAIN TOGETHER>

“No, no no no, no…” now blind panic really did set in, and he futilely scrabbled about inside his own skin, trying to escape her. He couldn’t get her out of him. He couldn’t get _himself_ out of him.

<…SOFT ONES FEED ME. BUILD POWER. THEN WE LEAVE TO SEE LUCIFER>

Heading towards the Winchesters to eat them alive, trapped and burning inside his own meatsuit, Crowley realised this must be what it was like for all of the souls he had condemned to the same fate. But like the psychopath he truly was, he had no empathy for his victims, his own skin was the one he wanted to save. Sam and Dean might have been the ones about to perish, but Crowley was the experiencing the torments of Hell and not enjoying it one single bit.


	11. On the run

Sam and Dean ran in total darkness. They had no idea what was up ahead – and didn’t particularly care; their only concern was putting themselves anywhere that the fire monster _wasn't_. After five minutes of competing in the blind wacky races the inevitable happened. A low hanging stalactite smacked Dean straight in the face and he toppled over like a cartoon bowling pin.

Sam, barely able to catch a breath and carrying a hysterical 12-year-old in the pitch dark, had heard the thud, but had absolutely no idea his brother was laying prone just ahead of him. He went down like a sack of shit as soon as his right boot caught Dean’s torso. It was sheer luck that he didn't crash into the invisible stalactite that had taken Dean out.

Billy went flying out of his arms; landing with a splash half in and out of a shallow puddle just up ahead. Sam's empty arms stretched out in front of him as he fell, badly scraping both wrists and palms against the stony ground. His right hip and elbow snagged against jagged rocks and the sharp shiver of pain brought tears to his eyes. Shocked and blind, it took Sam a second or two to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Hearing Billy cry out for him, Sam was tempted to rush straight to the boy, but far more worryingly his brother hadn't made a sound when Sam's boot had kicked him. He called out to Dean, voice hoarse. A sickening wave of fear washed over him when no response came back. At least whilst Billy was crying it meant he was alive, conscious and able to feel pain.

Dean, on the other hand...

Sam sightlessly dragged himself back towards the way they had come from, using his burned, skinned hands to scrabble around to find his brother. As he shifted his weight, something crunched underneath his jeans pocket. His cell phone was in pieces; the glass and plastic had shattered when he hit the hard stony floor. Sam pulled the biggest fragments out, threw them to one side, and carried on crawling.

His right arm brushed against the rough sole of a boot, and he quickly, expertly, travelled his fingers up Dean’s body, feeling for obvious injuries as he went. No compound fractures or bloody wet spots met his touch. When he reached Deans face, he pulled himself up so that he could rest an ear against his brother’s mouth. There were definite breath sounds. Ragged, but regular. Gently running a hand over his brother’s sticky, blooded face, Sam was sure Dean's nose and right eye socket were fractured.

 _Shit_. What to do, what to do??? He could have cried with frustration. How could he drag Dean, Billy and himself through utter darkness whilst avoiding a fire-possessed Crowley who was only minutes behind them? He needed a damn miracle.

Currently running low on those, he had to settle for trying to wake his brother up instead.

"Dean, Dean please wake up. DEAN!" He allowed the whine of desperation in his voice, knowing that if anything was going to bring Dean around, it was the knowledge his little brother needed him. "Dean, I know you're hurt, but you have to wake up! C'mon man, _please_!" After what felt like several decades of begging Dean finally stirred. "That’s it Dean, that’s it..." He reached under his brother and sat him upright.

"We still here?" Dean's voice was nasal and wet, and he spat out a wad of blood. "Aargh, Jesus fucking Christ Sammy, my skull feels like it’s been through a meat grinder."

"Yeah, I think you broke your face." Sam’s intense relief at Dean being back in the land of the living increased his light-headedness. "Sorry bro, but you might have to finally hang up your male modelling card if we make it out of here alive." Sam helped Dean to stand, both of them swaying like drunks. Dean was obviously struggling.

“Uh, Sam…minor problem here. Feels like something in my knee might have got twisted as I fell…”

“Can you put any weight on it?”

“That’s kind of a no?”

Sam rolled his eyes, glad Dean couldn’t see him. “At least on the plus side, you can’t smell the stench with a broken nose.”

“Ha-ha Sam. Excuse me whilst I laugh myself into a coma.” Barely supporting his brother’s weight, Sam helped Dean get a move on, picking their way towards the kid’s cries.

Sam felt around for the boy, finally dragging him up out of the puddle. Billy screamed and wriggled, crying ‘ _I think I broke my arm!_ ’

 _Seriously_? Could this day get any worse?

Without being able to see how bad the break was, Dean took his damp flannel shirt off and wrapped it around Billy’s shoulder and arm as a makeshift sling. It would have to do…what other choice did they have?

Huddled together, they sloshed and limped through puddles, boots and hearts heavy. This time they took the pace a lot more slowly.

Sam gradually became convinced he could see water close ahead. The cave was wide, he still couldn’t see the sides, but _yes_ , there was definitely water in front of them. It shouldn’t be possible to see the glimmering – there was no light down here. Unless…

_“Dean!”_

They whirled around, Sam’s heart in his throat.

Crowley was lit up like the fourth of July. He stumbled towards them relentlessly, glowing like a beacon. The heat coming off him was tremendous, and Sam wondered if the demon was still alive in there.

As quickly as they could, which was actually pretty damn slowly, they backed up away from the creature. They were losing ground fast as the fire-monster-demon rapidly gained on them.

Concussed, unable to walk unaided and knowing he was slowing the others down, Dean did the only thing available to him. He shoved Sam away. “Get out of here Sam – MOVE IT!”

“What..? _No way_!” An incredulous Sam was back at his side in an instant.

“I mean it Sam, take the kid and RUN!” Dean’s voice rasped with blood.

“Absolutely not Dean!”

“DAMMIT SAMMY!” Dean was angry and desperate. He shoulder-barged Sam hard, falling to his knees as he did so.

Sam’s boots slid on the wet surface as he was pushed. He cartwheeled three or four steps backwards before his left foot found no purchase at all; the ground had disappeared from under him. The next thing Sam knew he was falling into deep, ice cold water. He instinctively gasped, pulling the shockingly cold liquid into his lungs. Thousands of sharp needles pressed against his skin as he kicked out and upwards, choking up water as he broke the surface.

Sam trod water, stunned at finding himself in an underground lagoon. He was maybe two feet away from the rocky edge that his brother and Billy stood at. Thanks to the reflective surface, and the blinding light shining off Crowley, he could see the lake was vast and reached out further than he could swim in one sitting.

There was literally nowhere for them all to go to escape Crowley, except into the water. And there were so, so many things wrong with that idea. Even if there was some kind of island hidden out there, Dean couldn’t use his leg to swim, and the kid wasn’t paddling with a broken arm. As much as he might want to, Sam simply could not swim to safety whilst dragging two people behind him. They were effectively trapped between being burned to death by a fire-monster, or drowning in an ice-cold lake.

Deciding to make a fiery last stand alongside his brother, Sam heavily pulled himself out of the water, clothing and boots drenched. As he went to stand, Crowley’s fiery light highlighting Dean’s crouching form, a vision knocked him straight back down onto his ass.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: We, dear Supernatural fans, know exactly who was whispering in Sam’s ear during his visions. Poor Sam doesn’t yet know who’s pulling his chain in this chapter. Bless his fluffy little cotton socks, he still thinks it might be God…

Although only lasting a micro-second, the sensation of being mentally - _spiritually? -_ transported from the dark, wet cave to Bobby Singer’s dusty living room was akin being dragged naked across gravel. Sam wasn’t sure of the process of what actually happened to him during these visions; but what he did know was that the transition _hurt_. A teeth on edge, struck by lightning kind of hurt.

Still sopping wet, he stood shivering fat droplets onto Bobby’s floor as the old man looked up at him from behind his messy desk, one eyebrow raised. “You forget your umbrella? Sit your sorry ass down boy and pour yourself at least three fingers before you catch your death of pneumonia.”

Semi-reluctantly, Sam pulled up a chair. He was uncomfortable at being in the presence of…well, he was unsure who he was in the presence of. It certainly wasn’t Bobby. He thought about pouring that drink but was desperate to get some answers first.

“Can we stop pretending? I know you aren’t Bobby. Not the real one, anyway. I’ve kinda got a…situation going on right now that I really need to get back to. Who are you? What is it that you want with me?” He didn’t mean to sound so impatient; his and Dean’s imminent fiery death wasn’t exactly something he wanted to rush headlong into. He just didn’t want Dean to suffer alone.

Bobby pulled at his ubiquitous baseball cap, scratched at the top of his head like a cat going after a flea, then crammed the hat back on tight. “Son, who, or what, I am is the least important thing you got going on right now. The point is, big brother Dean is about to find himself barbecued by a creature named Eshemiel, and you are about to follow him ass over elbow down that same rabbit hole. And I can’t have that. Sam Winchester is _not_ gonna get burned to ashes by that big old gal on my watch.”

“Who _are_ you?” Sam repeated, this time in a hushed tone. “How do you know so much about what’s going on? _Are you_ …” Sam couldn’t bring himself to outright utter the ‘G’ word. Bobby interrupted him anyway, before he could try and squeak the word out.

“Listen to me Sam, and listen good. Eshemial can’t be killed. You get that? Bobby jabbed a finger at Sam to ram the point home. “She. Can’t. Be. Killed.”

Sam ran a red raw hand through his wet hair. “Then what do I…”

“She can’t be killed, but she _can_ be sent back to sleep. In fact, she HAS to be put back to where she’s supposed to be Sam.” Bobby stood up, walked around to Sam’s side of the desk and perched himself on the edge.

“You think she’s bad now? Wait till she’s out of that cave. Eshemiel is grievously radioactive in the presence of sunlight. Given enough time – and I’m talking three, maybe four weeks - she could put an end to _all life on Earth_.” Bobby reached behind him and drained the rest of his whiskey, before carrying on.

“I knew her once, you know.” He seemed to forget, in that moment of wistfulness, that he was supposed to be Bobby Singer. “A great lumbering thing. You ask…how can a creature made from fire be so graceless? Fire twists and turns, it’s refined…exquisite, even. But Eshemiel? She’s a blundering, corpulent mess of hot, stinky gas.” He sighed. “Such a waste. No Sam, her rightful place is at slumber, dreaming pretty dreams of red nuclear sunsets, until the planet finally boils itself away and she can be born anew inside the dying Sun.”

Sam was seriously freaked at this entirely sudden change of character. He stood up abruptly, his chair falling behind him. “ _WHO ARE YOU_?!”

“Jeeez Sam, un-bunch those panties!” Bobby had the affront to look hurt. “I’m someone who is looking out for you. Who has _always_ looked out for you. You got a date with destiny kiddo, and I’m making sure you get _where_ you need to be, _when_ you need to be.”

Sam needed a second to take this all in. “You’re talking about the Darkness? About Amara?”

“As a wiser man than me once said, it all depends on a certain point of view.”

“You’re quoting Star Wars at me? As important as Amara is, the Darkness is going to have to wait _Obi-Wan_. This Eshemial is about to incinerate Dean - I need to deal with her and save my brother _right now_.”

“Your brother, the kid, yourself, the rest of the damn planet. Go save ‘em all Sam.” Bobby smile was open and sincere.

“Then tell me - what do I need to do?”

“Don’t look so worried Sam, it’s so simple a child could do it. You just have to _think_ her to sleep.”

“Um…” Sam frowned. “What?”

“She’s older than spells, older than words. They’re just gonna bounce off her like tiny lego bricks. There’s a certain kind of…I don’t know, _mindset_ you need to have. Sort of a cross between visual images and emotional coding.”

Sam blanched. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“Because I’ll do most of the heavy lifting. I can put the right software package inside your noggin…all you need to do is unzip the file and let it run.”

“Nothing’s ever that easy”.

“Aww Sam, when d’ya get to be such a cynic? You used to be such a happy kid…”

Sam frowned. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Look, could we just get started please?”

“Already done.”

“Huh?” Sam hadn’t felt anything change.

“Aint my first rodeo son. All you need to do to send her back to the land of nod is look her straight in the eyes and think about the Sun.”

“That’s it?”

“Well you can sing her a lullaby and give her a mug of cocoa if it makes you feel any happier. Course that’s really it, you idjit.”

Sam was beyond ready to get out of the presence of this fake Bobby. “Can you just quit with the sarcasm and send me back now?”

“What, I don’t even get a ‘Thanks’ for saving your and Dean’s ass?”

“Thing is, I don’t know what I’m buying here. I don’t even know who you are. You’re saving us because you’ve got plans for me further down the road, but you won’t tell me what those plans are...”

“Well I guess you’re just gonna have to trust me, seeing as you have no other choice. Unless you want Dean and that poor little boy to end up crisper than a side of bacon?”

“Fine, I get it. Thanks, ok? Just send me back. _Please_?”

“As you asked so nicely…”

Another micro-second of gnawing pain enveloped Sam, as Bobby’s living room faded out around him.

_“See you soon Sam...”_


	13. Chapter 13

Sam wasted no time in scrambling up from the water’s edge. Striding forwards, he immediately placed himself in-between Dean and Crowley. The air was still thin and his head swam at the rush of movement.

“Sam…WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Dean shouted furiously, grabbing at the back of Sam’s wet jeans with one hand. His other forearm was up to shield his eyes from the blinding light, and Sam saw his face was soaked in blood.

“Trust me Dean!” was all the time he could spare for an explanation. The heat coming off Crowley…no _Eshemiel_ … was intense. Sam could feel his already raw skin re-blistering. He stood his ground and stared directly into Eshemiel’s blazing face. Immediately his eyes began to water, then scald, and no amount of willpower could keep his eyelids open. So he used his fingers to force them apart. He did wonder, as he began to conjure up an image of the Sun in his mind, whether he would end up permanently blinded by doing this.

 _‘Easy’ my ass_. His clothes began to steam, then scorch as they dried off in seconds, and Sam could smell himself beginning to cook under the ferocious heat. Just as he thought he couldn’t take the pain a second longer, everything went dark. He had no idea whether it was because he had succeeded in his mission, or because he had lost his vision.

It was the abrupt lack of any kind of warmth that gave Sam his first clue that it might have worked. That and hearing Crowley thud to the ground in a heap. “Dean…? Is she gone?”

“… _She_? Sam? What the hell just happened?”

“Can you SEE?” Sam couldn’t hide the fear he heard in his voice. His scoured eyes were too dry to even water, and he felt sick to imagine what they must look like. Dean’s hands clutched at him as he used Sam to pull himself upright.

“Not a damn thing. Sam – WHAT HAPPENED?”

Sam couldn’t help it – a combination of pain, shock and fear brought him down to his knees, bringing Dean back down with him. He heard his brother gasp in pain as his damaged knee twisted under him again. He could also hear Billy’s faint sobs. That poor kid was going to be traumatised for the rest of his life.

“It’s... I _will_ tell you everything, Dean, I swear, but first we need to know if Crowley’s ok. We need him to get us back to the surface…”

“I’m touched at your concern for my welfare Moose.” Crowley’s voice was rougher than sandpaper, but unmistakably his. “What happened Sam - how the hell did you get Eshemiel to bugger off? There was some serious mojo going on inside this slightly charred and yet still strikingly handsome meat suit.”

“Spare me Crowley.” Dean currently didn’t have the patience for Crowley’s shitty sense of humour. “Just get us topside asap.”

“Hold your damn horses! I demand to know _exactly_ what happened and where she’s gone - that bitch turned me into her personal blow torch! She said I sustained her – I thought I was never going to get free...”  

“Oh boo-hoo Johnny Storm. You were desperate to jump her bones; you knew she was powerful and dangerous and yet you couldn’t wait to use all that for yourself. So I would say her turning the tables on _you_ was your own damn fault.”

“Bleugh - how very sanctimonious Dean. If I felt the need to self-flagellate I would invite my friend Trixie round for some Saturday night fun. I want to know what happened here, and don’t play coy – it doesn’t suit you - I know you want answers just as much as me. So spill it Sam…”

“You really wanna do this here? Now? In the dark?” Crowley might right about the curiosity, but Dean hated not being able to see what was going on with his brother.

“Demon _remember_?” Crowley sometimes forgot just what imbeciles these boys could be. “I can see well enough thank you…”

Sam spoke up. “Actually, there’s not that much to tell….”

Dean’s loud ‘tsk’ filled the cavern. “Alright Sammy, just get on with it then. That kid doesn’t have all day, and neither do we.”

Sam gave a brief - and pretty heavily redacted - version of his vision. All that destiny stuff could wait until he and Dean were alone. It didn’t take long to explain who Eshemiel was and how he had managed (with a metric ton of mysterious help) to send that particular radioactive bomb back to dreamland. He quickly brushed over the part about possibly – _probably_ – being blind, but Dean read between the lines.

“Enough’s enough. Let’s get that kid to the hospital and then do what we can do to sort out your eyes. We’ll get ‘em fixed Sammy, I promise you.”

“Awww. You boys get me right in the feels.”

“Thanks Crowley – that means a lot.” Dean didn’t hide his irritation. He was too cold, his face was broken and he was worried about Sam. “Can we just get out of here now?”

“ _We_?” The hard of hearing could have heard the amount of smug in the Demon’s voice.

“Oh we are NOT doing this again.” Dean was now super-pissed.

“Well just think about it…leaving you down here is the solution to an awful lot of my problems. Give me one good reason why I should even consider bringing you two back with me?”

“How about I give you two?” Sam ignored his swollen eyes and aching lungs. “One: some big powerful entity just saved all our butts. You really want to piss him off by just leaving us to die?”

“Well if you mean all that much to him Rapunzel, why can’t he come rescue you himself?”

“There’s a second reason, and one I think you should pay closest attention to. If Dean and I are abandoned down here, then I have nothing to lose. _Nothing_. So what’s to stop me from waking Eshemiel up again and pointing her in your direction? She took quite a fancy to you…”

“Don’t kid a kidder Sam. You barely knew how to put her to sleep, let alone how to wake her back up again. And even if you did know how, you wouldn’t dare…”

“That’s where you’re wrong Crowley; you of all people know _exactly_ how far I will go to save my brother.” He let that sink in for a moment. “I got the full user instruction manual inside my head, and if you want to call my bluff go right ahead, it’s your meatsuit she wants to snuggle up in. Like I said…if you leave me with nothing to lose, then I got nothing to lose...”

The seconds ticked painfully away before Crowley finally spat out a curse. “I really hate you Winchesters.”

Dean chuckled. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. So here’s the deal. You get me, Sam and the kid topside, and then you fix Sam’s eyes. In return, I’ll get my little brother to delete your Tinder profile from Eshemiel’s favourites list.”

Crowley, never one to shy away a cheap trick, let his demon eyes glow red. Moose couldn’t see the effect, but it never hurt to remind Squirrel who he was dealing with. He thought the odds on him successfully calling Sam’s bluff were around 60:40, but in truth, his encounter with Eshemiel had shaken him up far more than he would ever admit to. He was actually damn grateful (not that he would EVER, EVER say it) to Sam for getting rid of her. But to be indebted to these hateful boys stuck in his throat like thick vomit. So deciding to give them no time to gloat, he transported the four of them up to the surface, fixed Sam’s horrifically destroyed eyes, then disappeared before Dean even had the chance to form a smirk.

~~~

Already on their knees, they didn’t have far to fall as they collapsed in relief onto the grass by the partially flooded crossroad, sucking sweet, fresh air into their lungs until they were dizzy. Sam and Dean looked at each other, nodded their ok’s then crazy-laughed like lunatics.

It was no longer raining, the sun was shining and Sam could see it all in glorious high definition. Dean’s face was drenched in blood, but the damage didn’t look as bad as he had feared. Their clothes were charred and full of holes but Sam didn’t care about their burns and scrapes; he could _breathe_ , he could _see_ , and both Dean and Billy were _alive_.

Thinking of Billy, Sam got up and went straight over to the boy. His face was coated in tear-streaked dirt and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. His body was curled protectively over his broken arm, and Sam’s heart wrenched at the sight of the poor kid. Crowley, the asshole, hadn’t helped the boy in any way. Billy needed to get to a hospital, but Sam didn’t think that was going to be a problem. The emergency services were everywhere, working together to move what had to be twenty to thirty beached cars. Some locals were handing out bottles of water, flasks of coffee and sandwiches to the workers and stranded drivers, whilst others attempted to deal with the receding flood water. Two hours after his every-day world had collapsed into a supernatural hot mess, Officer Out-Of-His-Depth was finally commanding the situation like a boss.

Until he caught a glimpse of Sam and Dean, anyway. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of them, then comically widened even further at the sight of Billy Lately. Dean didn’t wait for the cop to speak, just shouted at him to get a paramedic over to the boy asap.

Standing by the crossroad, Sam thought of the ashes of Mrs Lately and Officer Mayberry, both buried underground along with a dying Subaru and a sleeping ancient creature. There was no rational way of explaining their disappearance to the cops, and no one was ever going to believe Billy’s narrative of underground monsters. The kid would have to deal with the knowledge of what had happened to him – and to his mom – without anyone ever accepting his story as true. Sam desperately hoped that his dad was a kind, decent man.

Whilst the Officer busied himself with Billy, the Winchesters took the opportunity to limp off to the Impala. Dean’s right arm was slung around Sam’s shoulder, his weight heavily resting on his brother. They dragged themselves to the car in silence, deep in contemplation at their close call.

Dean’s knee was too badly injured to drive, so it was up to Sam to check if the car would even start. The throaty rumble as Sam turned the key was the only sound the brothers needed to hear as they drove away from Ector County, and from the nightmare that slept under their town.

The End!

 

Thank you to everyone who read my story! Please let me know what you thought.

If you enjoyed this fanfic, please check out my other two Supernatural stories: ‘And the hits keep coming - <https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749736> , and Every rose has its thorn - <https://archiveofourown.org/works/5033191> .


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